


Poppet

by woodelf



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 15:08:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20950406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woodelf/pseuds/woodelf
Summary: For the a-monthly-rumbelling prompt, 'Voodoo doll/phantom touch'.





	Poppet

“Rumpel, have you ever heard of voodoo dolls?” Her finger marking the entry on Vodou, more commonly known as Voodoo, Belle looked up from _The Encyclopedia of World Religions_, the heavy book supported by a pillow on her lap.

“Yes, I have. Somebody you want to stick pins into?” Rumpelstiltskin sounded amused.

“Oh, I can think of a few,” she replied darkly. Regina, for one, was owed a few pricks for past crimes. And she wouldn’t mind holding Zelena over the flame of a burning candle. Or maybe flushing her down the toilet, except that it would block up the plumbing.

“Do they work?” she asked.

He looked at her rather more sharply. “I’ve seen plenty a spell for magical poppets in my time, but with the power of the Dark One, I never needed to try any. As far as I know, yes, they can work, but you don’t want to go there, love. All magic has –”

“A price, yes I know,” she finished for him. “And you know that I would never really hurt anyone. But what if, theoretically, I didn’t want to hurt someone? What if, say…I just wanted to make a fool of Hook? Make him hop around on one foot?” She cringed inwardly as soon as she said it, for it struck too close to home, with Rumpelstiltskin’s own crippled foot. “And flap his arms in the air like a chicken?” she added hastily, for good measure.

Rumpelstiltskin snorted. “Don’t tempt me. But theoretically, yes, there would be a lesser price for that. But you’re still controlling someone against their will.”

“Oh.” Belle bit her lip “What if one were to use the doll to help somebody? Like…say you knew someone with a bad back. Would rubbing the doll’s back make them feel better? Loosen up tight muscles and so on?”

Rumpelstiltskin looked at her thoughtfully. “Probably, yes. But it would be a lot better if you simply gave that person an actual back rub.”

“But the price? Would it be much in that sort of situation?”

“Probably not, no. Belle, do you have something specific in mind?”

“Oh, just thinking,” she said vaguely, waving a hand in the air. “Thanks.” She pointedly looked back down at her book again, trying to find the place where she’d left off reading.

* * *

It wasn’t hard, the next day while Rumpelstiltskin was at work, to cut out a person-shaped outline from the off-white fabric of one of the library tote bags that she sold for a dollar, mostly to overburdened mothers finding themselves with a towering armful of children’s books to check out as well as needing at least one hand free to control their children and deal with doors and the like. The book had said the doll didn’t need to be realistic, as long as some item belonging to the person it was supposed to represent was added to it when she cast the spell and declared the name of the person that she was tying to the doll. She sewed the two pieces of fabric together by hand, leaving one gap open until she had filled it with some pillow stuffing that she had picked up at the town’s small craft and fabric store, and smoothed out all the lumps as best as she could. She’d also bought some embroidery floss that was the perfect shade of greyish-brown for the hair, and it was the furtive but simple work of a few days to collect what seemed like a good amount of Rumpelstiltskin’s own hair by pulling the loose strands from his hairbrush every morning and night after he’d brushed his hair. It was rather more difficult to figure out how to attach the mix of floss and real hair to the doll in a way that looked halfway decent without going through the time and effort needed to hand knot each one separately. Because so far she was just playing around, having fun making the doll, and she had never been a particularly skilled seamstress. She intended to keep it simple, mostly. She didn’t even know if she was going to do anything further with it; although she’d looked up a spell she could try. Whether it would work or not would be a whole different matter.

She needed to finish the doll first, though, before she even began to think about that. She finally got the hair attached, and carefully drew on a face with a fine point marker, hesitating before drawing on a smiling mouth. Would that force him to smile even if he didn’t feel like it? She decided to leave the mouth off for now, although then she worried that he wouldn’t be able to speak without one. Well, she could always add it later. She added two ears beneath the fall of hair and considered her efforts. Not bad. She suddenly wanted to check her bag of fabric scraps to make a little suit for him, but clothes weren’t necessary, not for what she had in mind. Although…

She fetched her bag, bits and pieces of cast off fabric that could be used for patching or whatever else was needed. There was a length of silk that had been part of a tie that had been stained beyond repair, and Rumpelstiltskin had been good about not using magic for such an unnecessary thing. He had more than enough ties, and could easily buy a new one if desired. Belle had thought the tie might come in useful for other things (possibly tying wrists to headboards) and had saved it, tucking it into her bag. Now it came in handy to cut and sew a miniature tie to go around the neck of her doll, making a second thing besides the hair to mark the doll out as being Rumpelstiltskin. She drew in two nipples, one to either side of the jaunty strip of silk, then decided she could do better and picked out some coppery-coloured thread from her sewing box. Five minutes later, she ran her thumb over one of the little nubbins she had stitched over the nipple marks with satisfaction. Now she had only face the problem of how to make the genitals.

She had known that they’d be the fiddly bit when she started, and so had made the doll a good twelve inches long instead of the smaller pocket-sized one she’d originally envisaged. The fabric from the cannibalized tote bag seemed a bit too thick to use, and really it’d be better to have some material that could be wiped clean afterwards, she thought, and pondered. The finger of a rubber glove might work for the penis, she decided, the sturdy kind worn for cleaning. It already had the tubular shape she needed and would save her work. And just the ends cut off another two fingers could be stuffed and cinched shut for the balls.

“I’ll stop at the store tomorrow,” she told the doll, kissing it on top of its head and tucking it safely in the drawer of her writing desk in the library, the drawer with the lock.

On the cleaning aisle of the grocery store the next day, she picked up an extra large pair of rubber gloves in mauve, neither the blue or yellow alternatives being even remotely similar to a natural skin tone. She frowned at the colour – it really wasn’t too bad for the cock head, but for the whole thing it was rather lurid. The small, stretchy latex gloves sold in a package nearby would have matched the body of the doll nicely, but were far too small for the size doll that she had made. She reminded herself that the doll didn’t have to be realistic and tossed the rubber gloves into her shopping cart. After a moment’s thought she added the latex ones as well; they’d be good to wear while mixing potions. Since Rumpelstiltskin was still out when she got home, she took her supplies into the library and locked the door behind her for good measure. She sat down at her writing desk under the window with her sewing basket and got to work.

Picking up her pair of scissors, she cut off one of the rubber glove’s fingers, carefully extending her cut down into the palm on both sides so that she would have a flap of material to use to attach it to the doll. She frowned as she realised that the flaps would really look better if they were on the inside of the doll; she should have thought of that before she’d sewn the doll together and stuffed it. She debated between cutting a hole in the fabric and simply opening the seam in between the doll’s legs, but realised that the lower position that would put the cock into would leave nowhere to anchor the balls. A new hole it was, then. She packed the cut-off finger densely with pillow stuffing, then had to pull it back out when the piece of thick wire she’d taken from Rumpel’s shop wouldn’t poke through the stuffing. She slid that in first the second time, and pushed the stuffing back in around it. A piece of duct tape across the base, through which the wire poked through, kept everything in place. With needle and a thread pulled tight, she defined the head of the cock, so that it started to actually look more like a cock than a finger cut off of a rubber glove. All the while she worked she tried to focus on her intent for the doll. She’d already done some research, and that had been an important step of the process.

Next came the fiddly part. She cut a slit into the fabric of the doll’s abdomen, and worked the wire up inside the doll’s body, bending it so it held the cock up at a jaunty angle. The rubber flaps were next, pointing in opposite directions and providing further support. With small stitches that blended into the slightly fuzzy material of the bag, she worked all the way around the base of the cock, attaching it securely to the doll’s body and reinforcing the edges of the slit she’d cut in the fabric so they wouldn’t fray. Last she stitched down the rubber flaps to the front of the doll, feeling where the edges were beneath the fabric. It took quite a while, and she put the whole thing down and stretched tight muscles when she was done, appraising her work with a judgmental eye. Not bad, she decided. It was obvious what it was meant to be, at least, which was all that really mattered. Last she cut off two fingertips from the gloves, ran her needle in a running stitch around each open end, and cinched them shut after filling them with stuffing. She anchored them to the doll beneath the cock with a few stitches, then used a glue gun to secure them firmly in place. Sitting back, she contemplated the doll, and finally decided to draw a smiling mouth on it with red marker, smiling back as it suddenly seemed to come to life.

Picking up some notes she’d made while researching voodoo dolls, Belle went over them for her next step. Clear any negative energies that had clung to the materials used in creating it. A simple sprinkle of salt over the doll’s body would suffice. Consecrate it, baptise it. Do it during the waxing moon if it was to be used for good instead of harm. She’d already checked that, and it was the perfect time of month; they’d just gone past the quarter moon and were heading towards full. A white candle, incense, holy water. She had briefly considered asking the nuns if they had any holy water, but had snorted to herself at the idea of answering the natural question of why she wanted it, if they even had any. Besides, she didn’t think she would trust anything that Blue gave her, not to mention Rumpelstiltskin having a conniption fit if he ever found out that the doll that was supposed to represent him had been anointed with something that she had gotten from the hated fairies. The next best thing that she had been able to think of had been water from the well in the woods, the water from Lake Nostos. It was already magical; hopefully that would prove helpful instead of creating some unforeseen side effect. And the setting seemed like a good one to perform the spell; she would need someplace where she didn’t have to worry about being interrupted. She realised that she’d decided to go ahead with the spell; at no point during the creation of the doll had she gotten any bad vibes about making it and using it to pleasure Rumpelstiltskin.

“Belle, I’m home!”

Belle jumped, having missed the sound of the front door opening and glad that she had taken the precaution of locking the library door. Quickly hiding the doll in her one desk drawer that locked and turning the key, she pushed back her chair and stood up, going to the library door and unlocking it before Rumpelstiltskin could discover that fact and grow curious.

“I’m in here,” she called, going out into the hall to meet him, closing the door behind her and the mess still on her desk. She smiled as he came over to give her a kiss on the cheek and ask about dinner. Tomorrow was Saturday; the library closed early. She could say that she had errands to run after work so that Rumpelstiltskin didn’t expect her home at her usual time. Tomorrow she would try the spell.

The next day dawned clear and sunny; and the weather was still beautiful when she left the library. Rumpelstiltskin had let her take the car today for her supposed errands, and it wasn’t long before she was parking it as close to the well as possible and starting the trek up through the woods with the doll and her other supplies in her oversized purse. Since the well lacked any actual bucket to bring up the water, she’d brought along a coffee mug to which she tied the end of a ball of twine. She lowered the mug carefully down into the well, feeding the twine out until finally she felt the resistance as the mug finally hit the water. She pulled it back up slightly and let it hit the water more heavily, hoping to submerge the edge of it enough for some water to flow into the mug, pulling it across the width of the well for good measure. Slowly she pulled it back up. There was a good inch of water in the mug, more than enough for her purposes, and she set it down on the stone edge while she tried to untie the twine, soon giving up on the tight knot and cutting it with a small pair of scissors from her purse. She picked a flat piece of ground, brushing it clear of twigs and fallen leaves, and spread out a white linen napkin that she had brought. On top of that she laid the doll, the white candle, a cone of sandalwood incense and a small copper dish to set it on, some salt in a ziploc bag, and the mug of well water. Seating herself in front of the napkin, she took out a lighter and lit the candle and the incense. A coil of smoke began to rise and she breathed in the woody scent. Picking up the doll, she sprinkled the salt over it, making sure that some fell on each different material that had been used in its construction. “I cleanse you of all negative energy,” she recited solemnly. She lay the doll down on the napkin, and picked up the mug with the water.

“I hereby anoint myself with this water from Lake Nostos,” she said, dipping her finger into the mug and tracing a wet mark across her forehead. “I ask the universe to help me to charge this doll with magic, to tie it to the person I choose, to let them feel me touching them as I touch the doll.” She dipped her fingers into the mug again, anointing her wrists. “I mean no harm, and wish only good.”

Now she was supposed to meditate, try to get into a trance-like state. She crossed her legs beneath her, rested her hands comfortably on her legs, and closed her eyes. She concentrated on the warmth of the sun on her skin, the sound of insects and birds, the faint rustle of the leaves as the air moved around them. She inhaled deeply of the incense, and then turned her attention inward, concentrated on her breathing, counting, evening it out. Deep breaths. In, out, from the diaphragm, felt it rise and fall. When she felt as calm and centered as she thought she was going to get, she opened her eyes.

Picking up the doll, she brushed off the old salt. “I hereby consecrate this doll with the powers of earth and air –” She sprinkled a few fresh grains of salt onto the doll, and passed it through the incense smoke – ”fire and water and spirit. “ She passed it over the flame of the candle before flicking a few drops of water from the mug onto it. She wasn’t quite sure what she was supposed to do for spirit, but concentrated on her love for Rumpel. “That it shall be used only for good, according to my will. So mote it be.”

She repeated the consecration ritual six more times, for a total of seven. Then she paused for a moment. She had worded the next bit carefully, changing it from the original spell that she had found as the instructions had said that she might. “I baptise thee Rumpelstiltskin, in the name of True Love. All that is asked of you is to feel pleasure, should you want it. You are under no other binding or control. So mote it be.”

Satisfied, she anointed the doll a final time with a few drops of the well water, and felt the faint tingle of magic in the air. Or was it just her imagination?

“What about it?” she asked the doll. “Do you feel any different?”

The doll smiled up at her, and she smiled back, laying it down while she snuffed the candle and the incense and put all her supplies back in her bag, shaking out the white napkin last and wrapping the doll in it, the side that had been touching the ground outwards. She tucked it into her purse and stood, stretching.

“Well, I guess we’ll find out.”

When she got home, Rumpelstiltskin was in the kitchen, making a salad.

“Hello, love; get all your errands done?”

“Yes, and I’m hungry! Are you making dinner?” She set her purse down on a table, staying out of the kitchen itself. Close enough to see him without him noticing what she was doing. No time like the present.

“I am. Since I didn’t know what time you’d be getting home, I picked up a couple of steaks to put on the grill. They won’t take long, and I thought we could have a salad with them.” He went back to his chopping, and threw some onions into the bowl.

“Sounds great. Anything else?” She really was hungry, and wondered if it was from doing magic, or simply the hike up to the well and back.

“I could wrap up some potatoes in foil and add them to the grill, if you want. They’ll take longer, but they can keep cooking while we eat the steak and salad.”

“Yes, please,” she said, and, reaching furtively into her bag, stroked her fingers over the doll’s hair and watched for a reaction.

Rumpelstiltskin paused in his slicing of a carrot, as if he’d felt something. She repeated the motion, and his head lifted, tilting back slightly as if leaning into a caress. He reached up, brushed his hand over his hair and glanced around, looking faintly puzzled. She quickly lowered her eyes, pretending to be rummaging in her bag for something, and he went back to his chopping, reaching for the red cabbage. She waited a moment, then ran her finger down the doll’s spine, and saw, glancing up through her lashes, Rumpel roll his shoulders, then turn completely around, his brows drawing together.

Belle zipped her purse closed, a giddy feeling running through her. She’d done it! But she kept her face neutral as she smiled and walked over to join him. “What is it?”

“I…I don’t know. I just thought I felt something.” He gave her a sharp look.

Belle gave him a quick rub between the shoulderblades. “Shall I get out the croutons?”

She didn’t do anything further with the doll that night other than to lock it securely in her desk drawer again. But she spent every free moment she had thinking about how to go about the next step, and took the doll to work with her the next day, tucked into her oversized purse.

She had only two patrons all morning; the weather was too nice to be indoors. Kids were outside playing, adults doing yardwork or walking their dogs or simply relaxing in the warm, dry air. As it drew towards lunchtime, Belle began watching the pawn shop across the street. When she hadn’t seen any customers go in for a good twenty minutes, she picked up her purse, putting it on the desk in front of her, and pulled out the doll, unwrapping the linen napkin. She assumed the injunction to keep it wrapped in a cloth or in a cloth bag kept it from being activated all the time. 

She swept her thumb up the underside of the cock, and stroked at the place just beneath the head, where the lines she’d stitched to define it swept out around the shaft to meet at the top. How would she know if it was working? Would he think to call her? She rubbed over the tip, thoughtfully. She should probably let him know what she was doing, so he wouldn’t freak out – and make sure that he wanted her to continue. Really she wanted to see him, to watch his reactions, but maybe hearing them would do. She reached for her phone.

In the shop, Rumpelstiltskin froze as the feeling of ghostly fingers caressed his cock. There was no mistaking it this time, no possible explanation of a stray current of air causing the sensation. He set down the pocket watch that he’d been repairing and leaned back in his chair, opening his fly and taking his cock out in disbelief, staring as it grew in response to an invisible touch. He bucked into his hand with a moan as his balls were fondled. There was only one explanation that he could think of; he reached for his phone just as it rang. Glancing at the caller ID, he snatched it up.

“_Belle_. Belle, please tell me that you made that voodoo doll that you were talking about the other day.”

“Um, I might have,” she said cheerily. “Are you feeling something?” She dragged the tip of her tongue up the length of the doll’s cock, and heard a startled noise on Gold’s end.

“Did you just lick some doll’s cock? Did you make some anatomically correct doll, for heaven’s sake? Or did you buy it off the internet? Gods know you probably can; they have everything on there.” He gripped himself tightly, as if trying to contain the feelings.

“Well, I don’t know about anatomically correct – “ She massaged the place behind his balls, and heard him moan. “I might have gone a bit oversized. For visual effect.”

Gold’s mind conjured a lurid image. “Belle, you really shouldn’t be playing around with one of those things. It could be dangerous.” He felt her close her mouth around him and all his blood rushed south, his cock swelling to full size and jutting stiffly into the air.

“Cleansing it of any negative energy was part of the ritual I used. Do you want me to stop?”

“Yes, _no_, oh gods, I don’t know.” He switched his phone to speaker phone and set it down, pulling his balls out and rolling them in the palm of his hand. “It was good that you cleansed it, but maybe you could bring the doll over, so that I could check it out? Make sure that it is safe to use?” He shouldn’t even be thinking of letting her continue with this, but it felt incredible, and surely there couldn’t be much of a price for getting someone off?

Belle nibbled on her bottom lip. She wasn’t supposed to let anyone else handle the doll, but that was probably a matter of giving control over it to someone else. Giving it to Rumpel himself shouldn’t be a problem. But…while she was quite proud of all the work she’d put into the doll, and how it had come out, it was still a bit grotesque. “Can you check out the doll while it’s wrapped in a cloth?” she asked. “I don’t really want you to see it, not yet. I’ll show you after, if you want.”

“Yes, I suppose so. Can you come over now? And turn the sign to ‘closed’ and lock the door behind you; I’m in the back.”

Belle grinned. “I’ll be right over.” She blew lightly over the slightly damp head of the rubber cock, and heard him swear. “How hard are you?”

“I’m at ‘don’t ask me to try to get myself back into my pants’ hard,” he growled. “Get over here, woman.”

Belle wrapped the doll back up and zipped it safely into her purse. “Ooh, I love it when you get demanding. I’m leaving now.” She hung up and a minute later was exiting the library, her own sign flipped over to read ‘closed’. She crossed the street and was soon entering the pawn shop, locking the door as instructed and drawing the blinds for good measure.

“It’s me,” she called, going into the back room and admiring the sight of him stroking his straining erection.

“Excuse me for not getting up,” he said wryly, straightening in his chair. “Let me see the doll.”

Belle put her purse down on the desk and unzipped it, taking the cloth-swaddled doll out. “I guess you can look at it now if you really want to,” she decided. “But I’m afraid you might laugh, or it’ll ruin the mood. I wasn’t trying for realistic.” She passed the doll over.

Rumpelstiltskin took it from her, leaving it shrouded. “I’ll wait if you want. I don’t need –” He didn’t even have to concentrate to know that he had nothing to fear from Belle using this doll.

“LIght magic,” he smiled. “It’s imbued with light magic. You did a good job with this. Did you make it yourself?”

“Yes.” Belle beamed. “I was very careful with the wording, too. The only power it has is to allow you to feel pleasure, and that only if you wish it. It can’t be used to control you in any other way. I never would have made anything like that.”

He handed the doll back to her. “I’m glad.” He ran his finger over the prominent bulge beneath the linen. “He seems rather excited.” He grinned.

“So do you,” she said dryly, pulling a stool up the other side of the desk and sitting down, holding the doll on her lap below the level of the desk, well out of his sight with her bag blocking any possibility of him seeing over the edge of the desk. “So, how does it feel?”

“To be touched and not yet touched? Weird. But good. Not knowing where or how you’re going to touch me…it’s like being blindfolded, but without even the slightest clues of a shift in the air or the feeling of body heat approaching. It’s really intense, and exciting. So…are you going to finish what you started?” he challenged. His erection was starting to flag, but he didn’t touch himself. That was for her to do.

Belle’s mouth curved up, and a moment later he felt her thumbs brush over his nipples, back and forth, back and forth. His breath hitched in his throat as the touch changed to circles, slow, mesmerising, torturous. The fabric of his shirt began to irritate, and he yanked at his tie, loosening it, and unbuttoned his waistcoat and shirt. He glanced down, his nipples stiff with arousal, and brought one hand up to tug and pinch, his cock already back to full hardness without even being touched. Something cool and silky flicked against him, something vaguely familiar that he could not place. 

“What _is_ that?”

“Not telling,” she sing-songed, moving her hand down the doll’s body, lingering just above its cock for a moment, tantalising, making him wait for it, rubbing lightly.

“_Belle._” He started to reach for himself impatiently.

“What’s the magic word?” she teased, curling her fingers around the doll’s cock.

“Please,” he begged.

Swiftly she pumped up and down, her grip firm, loving the sight of her husband like this, sprawled back, clothes askew, flagrantly aroused, hers to play with, to pleasure. She bent down, sucked at the doll's balls, ignoring the taste of the rubber and swirling her tongue around the taut globes. She glanced up, over the edge of her purse when he made a desperate-sounding noise and saw him clenching the edges of his chair, his head fallen back but his eyes still obviously fixed on his stiff cock in fascination as it responded to an invisible touch that didn’t block his view in the slightest. Keeping her thumb playing over the doll’s balls, she went back to its cock, licking and sucking and watching the real thing bob and shift to lay flat against Rumpelstiltskin’s belly as his hips jerked, his back arching as his breathing grew audibly rougher. Pearly drops of fluid began to leak out of the flushed, swollen head. She tongued where the slit would be, imagined licking them up, let the shaft bounce against her tongue as she gripped the doll by its hips and ran her thumbs up along its inside thighs. Rumpelstiltskin grabbed for the handkerchief in his jacket pocket and she took the head in her mouth again, finding the stitched frenulum with her tongue and tracing along its length. 

He came with a shout, his cock spurting into the handkerchief that he had at the ready, the tight, heavy ache in his balls easing. It felt entirely too strange to close his hand over himself when he felt like Belle’s mouth was already there, and he was glad to feel her pull back as he pumped himself, once, twice, squeezing the head, milking the last of his seed out of himself, taking the handkerchief away and balling it up to toss on the desk. He felt Belle press firmly into the head of his cock and a few more drops of white dribbled out. He gathered them onto his fingers as his cock began to soften. Catching and holding her eyes, he deliberately raised his fingers to his mouth and sucked them off as he relaxed back into the chair, all tension draining out of him and leaving him feeling pleasantly languid.

Belle swallowed, not unaffected from watching Rumpel. “Enjoy yourself?”

“Very much so.” He felt sleepy, wanted to curl up in bed with Belle in his arms. “You?”

“I always love watching you come undone. Although I much prefer the taste of your skin against my tongue to the doll’s.” She made a face and glanced down at the doll. she might as well get it over with. “Want to see it now?”

Curious, he tucked himself away and zipped up before rising from his chair and coming around the desk. “Yes, let me see the little fellow.” A muscle twitched in his cheek as Belle handed it over, retaining the linen. “Or maybe not so little.” He took in the doll’s appearance, recognised the tie as what he had felt against his nipples, and felt the wire within that held the cock up stiffly. He bent it a little to adjust the angle. “A bit oversized,” he agreed, smirking. Although the doll was a simple shape, he could see that she had taken pains with the hair and the genitals. Knowing that she wasn’t much of a seamstress, it was really quite good. 

“Just a little,” she said cheerfully, happy that he didn’t seem to be upset about the doll’s appearance. The thought of having her usual lunch at Granny’s and returning to the library as usual didn’t appeal at the moment. “What do you think about taking an extra long lunch hour and eating at home? We have leftovers.” She twirled a strand of hair.

“What, are you reading minds now, too? We’ll turn you into a proper sorceress yet. I would love to come home for lunch.” He set the doll down and took her hands in his, leaning forward to whisper in her ear. “Especially if it involves more than just eating.” He brushed his nose against hers as he straightened back up, beginning to rebutton his shirt.

Belle smiled and took over the buttoning from him, fixing his collar and fluffing out his hair over it when she was done. “I think that can be arranged, Mr. Gold. I hear afternoon naps can be quite pleasant.” She snugged up his tie as he did up his waistcoat. “There, presentable again.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Gold. Shall we?” He offered her his arm, and Belle took it after rewrapping the doll and placing it into her purse. He was half tempted to make a doll of his own, to tease Belle with.

On the other hand, he didn’t really need one, did he? A tiny spark of magic danced off his fingertips as he rubbed them together mischievously. He’d have to see how she liked a taste of her own medicine.

.


End file.
